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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28863849">The Man I've Become</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/iihappydaysii/pseuds/iihappydaysii'>iihappydaysii</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressPandora/pseuds/MistressPandora'>MistressPandora</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Voyeurism, Arguing, Canon Divergence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Infidelity, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:48:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,776</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28863849</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/iihappydaysii/pseuds/iihappydaysii, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressPandora/pseuds/MistressPandora</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>While Jamie and Claire are in Jamaica looking for young Ian, Jamie has a reunion with a particular friend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser, Jamie Fraser/Lord John Grey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Man I've Become</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>There was a post floating around Tumblr this morning about how DG hates fanfic because it "ruins" the story/characters. This is in honor of that. Cheers, DG.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><p>Claire stopped dead as she peered through the cracked door to see Jamie and the Governor engrossed in intent conversation. There was something to it, a charge, Claire had no name for yet it left her transfixed. That nameless, powerful something flooded out of the room, sweeping over her, as Jamie’s eyes met Lord John’s and then, the impossible. Jamie embraced Lord John, capturing his lips in a fervent, open mouthed kiss. </p><p>Claire stopped breathing and prayed it was only lack of oxygen that caused the vision of Lord John opening his mouth for Jamie’s tongue to fill it. </p><p>"Oh God, John," Jamie said. He said it in <em>that</em> voice. <em>That</em> tone that she was certain he'd never used on anyone but her. She blinked at Jamie with this… whoever the bloody hell he was, gawking at Jamie's hand disappearing under <em>John's </em>coat. She absolutely had to be imagining the fine material of the governor's waistcoat bunching around the buttons, as if the back of it was suddenly struggling to also accommodate a large hand.</p><p>Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, it <em>wasn't </em>her imagination. </p><p>“Jamie…” Lord John’s voice was barely more than a breath, but the desperate want in it was obvious even from where Claire was standing. “We don’t have to… you must know…” His hand squeezed so tight to Jamie’s coat she thought he might tear through it. </p><p>"Aye, I ken," Jamie whispered back. "But I thought I'd never see ye again." </p><p>Claire shot a glance down the empty hall behind her. Could no one else hear the smacking? Fucking hell, how was it possible for kissing to be so goddamn loud? </p><p>"I want ye, John." Jamie had been taking minute steps, driving the governor back against his desk until he had no choice but to sit on it. "What if we truly never see each other again?" Jamie nudged John's knees apart and situated—oh Jesus—and situated himself between his legs, knuckles white as he dug his fingers into the governor's hips.</p><p>Lord John flushed a deep red and trembled, drawing in a sharp gasp. He leaned up and kissed Jamie again, wild and reckless. His hand attacked Jamie’s coat in a flurry, pushing it off his shoulders. Then, one hand moved to Jamie’s hair, tugging some of it from the ribbon. His other hand pulled Jamie’s shirt from his breeches. </p><p>Jamie wanted this. It was clear and he had said as much, but Claire had been so certain that he wasn’t like <em>that. </em>She would have sworn it on her life, on Brianna’s life. But the evidence was here before her eyes. Her husband wanted this. Lord John. A man. Claire would have sworn on her life that Jamie wasn’t… she would have sworn it, and she would have been wrong. </p><p>The rustling sound of fabric being shoved aside, buttons popping open, and the impassioned, heavy breathing of two desperately aroused men poured out of the luxurious office. Oh dear God, they were going to fuck right there on that desk with the door open. Claire should say something, make some noise, clear her throat, literally anything to stop this madness, but her jaw was on the floor and she couldn't pick it back up. All she could do was stand there gaping as Jamie went after Lord John’s flies.</p><p>Lord John helped him and suddenly there was a cock, hard and leaking, straining towards Jamie. “Christ!” the governor exclaimed, kissing Jamie messily as he tore at his breeches, opening them up as well. “I can’t believe this is real.” </p><p><em>Neither can I,</em> Claire thought, with an entirely different meaning. </p><p>Jamie stopped, taking hold of the governor’s wrists in both of his hands. Thank fucking Christ, he was coming to his senses!</p><p>But then, he ducked down and took the head of Lord John’s cock into his goddamned, cheating mouth.</p><p>The governor let out a feral moan, bucking up into Jamie’s mouth. He took hold of Jamie’s hair and threw his head back and he stilled as Jamie slid glistening lips up and down the shaft. </p><p>When Claire realized she couldn’t just see it, but could hear it, she had to grip onto the wall for support. </p><p>“Stop, Jamie. Not yet.” Lord John’s chest was heaving, then he swallowed. “I want <em>all </em>of you.” </p><p>A wrecked sort of groan came out of Jamie, the governor’s prick still halfway down his throat, and Lord John shuddered. After hesitating far longer than seemed strictly necessary given the circumstances, Jamie dragged his lips slowly—so slowly—over Grey’s cock, disengaging with an obscene, slurping pop that had Claire’s stomach tying itself in knots. </p><p>“Whatever ye want, John.” </p><p>They weren’t even kissing at this point, just mouthing at each other, all teeth and tongue and <em>holy shit make it stop</em>. “I’m all yers. Anything, Christ, just dinna stop touching me.”</p><p>Lord John managed to frantically kick out of his breeches. He was half-naked now on his desk, bare legs spread open. The askew powdered wig on his head finally gave in and slid off. He threw his arm back and blindly fumbled in a drawer, and lifted a glass vial up to his lips and tore the cork out with his teeth. The cork fell from the governor’s mouth to the floor. He tore open Jamie’s flies, revealing his familiar, hard prick. Lord John stared down, wild-eyed, then drizzled the contents of the vial over his shaft and took it in hand.</p><p>“Oh, I’ve <em>missed </em>you,” Lord John said with a brokenness Claire knew well herself. She knew what it was to miss Jamie Fraser. </p><p>But if Lord John <em>missed</em> Jamie, then that implied a previous relationship. <em>Oh my fucking God.</em> Had this happened before, then? And by the looks of things, it would happen again, given half the chance. </p><p>Claire knew what it felt like for Jamie's strong, rough hands to dig into bare flesh, just like that. What it was like to be manhandled into place against him, all at once rough and tender and breathtaking. But she’d never seen it from this angle, never seen the way the muscles in Jamie’s thighs and buttocks flexed and went tight as he—<em>this can’t be happening</em>—pushed inside. Claire clamped a hand over her mouth, either to stifle a pitiful sob or to keep from vomiting. She was crying, she realized distantly, hot tears drizzling lazily down her cheeks from her shocked eyes. </p><p>Lord John cried out, then bit down into Jamie’s shoulder to stifle the noise. Their bodies were impossibly close now. Lord John’s legs wrapped around the back of Jamie’s thrusting thighs. “Jamie.” The name was a moan on his lips. “God.” He wrapped one of his hands around his cock and stroked as he kissed Jamie again, tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth. </p><p>There was a familiarity between them, not something Claire could specifically identify, but she was certain then, absolutely certain, that this <em>had</em> happened before. She and Jamie had had their fair share of mad shags and hasty romps in the heather. Passionate, rough trysts that left her sore and sated. Claire caught a glimpse of Jamie’s face, viewed in profile, just before—<em>good Lord—</em>his tongue went down the governor’s throat again. She recognized that look in his eyes, the naked hunger, the adoration, all the feelings that should have been only for <em>her</em>. And what’s more, Jamie was being so unaccountably gentle and sweet that for a split second she almost forgot to be disgusted. Almost.</p><p>“Jamie, I…” Lord John reached back, planting his hand on the desk as his body arched up, cock on perfect, horrible display, both for her eyes and for Jamie’s. Claire knew the pleasure Lord John was feeling. Her husband had made her feel that way countless times, and he was <em>her</em> husband. She did have a claim to Jamie that Lord John could never have and yet… he also had a claim on Jamie she did not. Those long years of their separation. Not to mention, there was at least one thing this man had known about Jamie Fraser that she hadn’t. </p><p>Perhaps it was a blessing that Claire's heart chose that precise moment to thoroughly shatter. Because at least with her eyes filled with tears and her vision gone obscured and blurry, she didn't have to <em>see</em> the look on Jamie's face when he came. Oh, but she could hear it. Could hear it in the way the breath caught in his throat. The way he gasped and muffled a grunt of effort behind his tightly compressed lips, and every breath after that was wracked with a shudder. At least she didn't have to see the way he dug his fingers into Lord John’s flesh, leaving bruises. Claire put a shaking hand over her own leg and felt the twin of that bruise under the layers of her skirts. </p><p>Claire let out an accidental gasp, loud enough it could’ve been heard. And it was. Oh Christ, it was. At least by Lord John, whose head had snapped toward her, eyes gone wide with shock and horror. </p><p>“Jamie.” Lord John’s voice cracked on the name. </p><p>Claire had no idea if Jamie saw her or not because she was already turning and rushing down the hall, a slurry of confused emotions driving each quickening step. She needed to run. To get as far away from Lord John and Jamie and this nightmare as possible. </p><p>"Claire!" Jamie's long stride sounded behind her, chasing after her down the hallway. "Wait, Claire." His big hand seized her arm and pulled, spinning her around. "Sassenach, stop running and talk to me."</p><p>“Don’t touch me!” she shouted, shoving her hands against him, though of course he was unmovable. “Don’t you fucking touch me, you bastard!”</p><p>To his credit, Jamie let go of her arm, but positioned himself between her and her escape route. He held his empty hands up. "Alright, I willnae touch ye. But ye can at least listen to me before ye start shouting insults, aye?"</p><p>“No!” Claire spat. “You don’t get to demand anything of me! I’ll call you whatever I bloody well please. I went through hell to get back here to you, and <em>this </em>is how you treat me?” She shook her head, seething. “Fuck you.”</p><p>"Aye, ye did, and I'm grateful for it." Jamie lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. He still didn't touch her, but <em>oh, Jesus</em>, he smelled like sweat and sex. "And I'm sorry ye found out about John like this. I should have told ye sooner, but I thought ye'd react just as ye are."</p><p>“That’s not fair! You had time to tell me and you chose not to do so, and now you’re trying to compare how I <em>might </em>have reacted had you simply been honest with me with how I reacted having to <em>watch </em>you—” Claire lowered her voice, surprised she had the mental capacity to manage it. “Stick your cock in another man’s arse.” </p><p>Jamie paused before saying, quite calmly, "No one forced ye to watch it, Sassenach."</p><p>The anger coursing through Claire burned hot as fire. She wished she had the physical strength to choke him with her bare hands. “And no one forced you to do it. You’re <em>my </em>husband. I trusted you and you betrayed me in the worst imaginable way.”</p><p>"Twenty years, Claire. You were gone for twenty years." His voice shook and his face was red as a beetroot, but he kept his composure. "And I dinna regret sending ye and Brianna back to spare ye the horrors after Culloden. I'd do it again if I had to. But what did ye think ye'd find when ye came back here, hmm? Did ye think I'd still be celibate and mourning?" </p><p>Claire opened her mouth several times trying to find words and failing. “Well, I certainly didn’t think you’d become a…” She stopped herself short; she didn’t know what she’d been intending to say or if she did know, she certainly didn’t know what she meant to imply by it. </p><p>Jamie drew his shoulders back and gave her a hard look. "I sincerely hope the next word out of yer mouth isn't one ye'll regret."</p><p>Claire hesitated, let out a breath. “I don’t care what you did or felt you had to do. You were lonely and I don’t blame you for anything you had to do when we were apart, but… I’m here now and you still… did you care at all about how I’d feel? Did you even consider me while you were <em>fucking </em>him?”</p><p>After a moment, Jamie nodded. "Aye. At first, I realized the situation would force this conversation. But ye must understand, Claire, I love John. Losing you… it almost killed me. And what I <em>had</em> to do was find a way to move past it." He blew out a breath and his posture and tone softened when next he spoke. "I am truly sorry to have hurt ye. But I'm not sorry for loving John."</p><p>Claire stumbled back. Had she heard Jamie correctly? Had he honestly said what she thought he’d said? “You <em>love </em>him?” This wasn’t just a distraction, then. “Where does that leave me?” she asked, though she wasn’t sure where she wanted that to leave her. She could barely look at him, and if she was ever within arms reach of Lord John Grey, she was certain she’d kill him on the spot, oath to do no harm be damned.</p><p>"You are still my wife," Jamie said, entirely too calm. It would be easier if he yelled, but he didn’t. "And the mother of my child. And I wilnae turn ye away. I still care for ye, I still love you. But ye must understand, after twenty years, you are the outsider, not John."</p><p>“So what? You expect me to be okay with this? To just accept that I share my husband’s heart and bed with another man? How would you feel?”</p><p>"I <em>sent you</em> to another man, or have ye forgotten? And I was grateful that ye had him to care for ye." Jamie shook his head. "No, I dinnae expect ye to <em>just</em> accept it. But if ye still wish to be my wife, then I do expect ye to start finding a way past it. You said ye were willing to risk the man I've become for the man I was. Is that still true?"</p><p>Claire stood there, still raging, still furious, still confused, still broken-hearted, her eyes still burning, her face still streaked with drying tears. She had said that and maybe she hadn't fully understood the weight of it nor the cost, and yet she felt she hadmeant it. “I don’t know,” she said. It was the most honest thing she could have said. “Not today.” </p><p>At least Jamie had the good form to look down and appear affected by her words. He cleared his throat and nodded. "That's fair. And it's your choice. But I still need yer help finding wee Ian."</p><p>“For Ian’s sake, then. Not yours.” Claire sighed. “I can’t forgive you yet. I don’t know when I’ll find a way to that forgiveness—or acceptance,” she corrected herself, as it didn’t seem like Jamie was truly asking for forgiveness. “Life… love,” she said, quietly, almost to herself. “It’s not as simple as it pretends to be, is it?” She thought about Frank, about Brianna, about the choice she’d made to stay with Jamie and the ultimate choice she’s made to leave, then to come back. Claire could’ve stayed in the twentieth century and kept herself warm with memories, with the shiny, imagined version of what their love was. So perhaps it wasn’t just about risking the man he’d become for the man he was, but about risking the fantasy of Jamie Fraser for the reality of him. </p><p>Jamie gave her a tense sort of smile, but there was genuine warmth under it, she thought. "No, it isnae. I vowed to keep ye safe and to care for ye, Sassenach. And I still mean to keep that vow." He laid a tentative hand over hers, as unthreatening as a man his size could be, and stroked her knuckles with his thumb. "And if ye need time… to decide what that is for ye, I can be patient."</p><p>Claire let Jamie’s touch linger for a moment, but could only bear it for so long, and slipped away. “Patience,” she said, thinking perhaps eventually she could find it in herself to be patient with Jamie too. Not today, though. Definitely not today. </p>
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